


Every Now and Then The Stars Align

by reytheghost



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, M/M, POV Remus Lupin, Remus is a semi-philosophical art student or something like that, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 22:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17816402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reytheghost/pseuds/reytheghost
Summary: Remus spends too much time dreaming. Meanwhile, he falls in love, becomes friends with Sirius Black and contemplates the universe. And maybe, he lives a little.





	Every Now and Then The Stars Align

Sometimes, he couldn't grasp the fact that this was life, that this was real, the individual people, all those thoughts he would never think, those feelings he would never feel—and the Earth, rotating, endlessly. Towards infinity? Once, dinosaurs had roamed the surface, and the stars, they were light years away. Same world, same reality. It didn't make sense, not at all. And still.

He dreamed about supernovae and he read books, absorbed the thoughts of some poet who had died from syphilis in Paris, centuries ago, and he wondered how it could be, that his feelings were in those poems. How the universe could be so cruel, deliberately or coincidentally.

The universe was huge and though the greatness of humanity could be disputed, the insignificance of the individual was a constant. For approximately 13.8 billion years, the universe had existed, 4.54 in which Earth had existed. A Google search: how old is humanity? Human, Wikipedia: "The earliest fossils of anatomically modern humans are from the Middle Paleolithic, about 200,000 years ago (...)" Another one: how many people are there now? 7.53 billion. 8.14 million people, only in London. Basically, it was impossible to meet anyone. And still.

He believed in luck, coincidence, fate—everything a little bit. Nothing, at the same time. Dreams, maybe. The majestic vision of a night sky.

He was eighteen years old now and all his life, he had been reading books. He showed all the signs of growing up lonely. There was something that would not go away—it had been with him all his life, but strangely, it had not killed him—or at least, not yet. Sometimes, he didn't know what to think of it. It didn't make any sense. The wicked part of him laughed about it, about a god, or whatever, that apparently couldn't decide if it hated Remus Lupin or pitied him.

The romantic part of him, dreaming desperately and longingly, believed that the universe had a plan, but lately, it had been chaos and there was one particular thing that made that he had to close his eyes to remind himself that this was  _ real _ . He hoped that it was not a mistake—a part of fiction slipped through the cracks into non-fiction, because really, he had always reckoned that such an overwhelming feeling did exist only in books. Or maybe, it was just that he had read too much and the fiction had infiltrated him. Or, another option, he was just plainly extremely pathetic.

_ Crushing on the hot boy you sometimes see in the library. Falling in love with the stranger that sometimes talks to you.  _ It made him both a hopeless teenager starved of attention and a sleepless dreamer bound to dream his life away.

Just, how many people looked at this boy and thought that he was the One? He mentally shook himself.  _ The One? Stop overthinking. You have to concentrate on other things. Studying, work. Don't get distracted by... _

He told his name on one of the last days that held the illusion of summer, just after asking Remus if he could borrow a pen.

"I see you at least four times a week, we've even talked to each other, but I haven't even told you my name."

When he sat down at the same table as Remus, he always smiled a little. A smile that was barely there, just gentle and beautiful. And when he was studying—Art History?—he softly hummed along to the music from his earphones that Remus couldn't hear. He wore combat boots, black jeans, band shirts—bands Remus didn't know, though, but it left him wondering what kind of music this stranger was actually listening to.

But now, he sounded like the definition of arrogance and it shattered something, glass, a few pieces, but enough to make him feel like an idiot. It was a part of the throne, made of fragile glass, he had built in his head for this person that he only ever saw in the library, that probably had a million friends outside of it and that honestly couldn't want to become friends with someone like Remus. He hoped it wasn't visible on his face. He hoped he sounded neutral, when he said, in a poor attempt to contain some pride, "I haven't told you my name either."

His arrogant grin changed into something else, close to the smile that was Remus' favourite, and instantly, his heart starting beating faster.  _ Pathetic, right. _

He glanced at his book and then at Remus with grey eyes that somehow weren't as cold as steel. He canted his head so that strands of his long dark hair that had escaped his messy bun brushed his cheek.

After a moment of studying Remus, in which he felt himself turn red from embarrassment, praying to a god he barely believed in that this boy couldn't read is mind or something like that, have himself a vision of all Remus' fantasies, he said, his voice a little hoarse like always, but with a vague hint of awkwardness, "You know, that's why I said it. I should have just asked your name."

It was relieving, in some way. He found himself smiling."What's your name, then?" he asked, silently praying that his face didn't look like there was a fire burning just beneath his skin.

The stranger let out a surprised laugh. He offered Remus his hand. Long, elegant fingers. Graceful. "Sirius."

_ Sirius.  _ Like the star. That was his first thought, and his second was  _ oh my god _ and after that, he rolled his eyes at himself.  _ Get a grip on yourself, you idiot, it's just a name. _ Names were given before it was clear what kind of person someone was or would become, before birth even, and some parents had terrible humour, like Remus', and others needed to be original at all costs, so they named their son after a star, one that sounded like an emotion. At the same time, this could mean everything else just as well. When Remus told him his name, he laughed, loud and nice, even though they were in a library. Remus imagined that this was the kind of laugh he laughed when he was with friends, joking around or whatever it was that normal people his age did.

"I'm not sure which one of us has got it worse," he said after a while. There was still a laugh in his voice. The way he looked at Remus sent a little jolt through his stomach.

Sirius, the brightest star in the night sky. It was almost perfect. His grey eyes, his voice—and it almost prevented him from thinking about Romulus and Remus, the dispute and Remus' tragic fate. If there were reasons behind names, other than that parents just liked the sound of them, it couldn't be good that he was named after the brother that died before the city had risen, instead of after the first king of what would become a mighty empire.

"Remus," Sirius said, shaking him out of his thoughts. "It's a beautiful name though. Suits you." He didn't whisper, so he earned a glare from the librarian that walked past them. He smiled brightly at her, but somehow, she was blind for his charms. Sirius looked at Remus and huffed. "She just ignored me!" Now he was whispering, but it sounded louder than when he had just been talking very softly.

"I don't understand how that's possible," Remus smiled, only half joking. If this was flirting –

"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that," Sirius laughed. "But I don't want to be killed by her glares." He closed his book with a heavy thump and got up. Before Remus could mumble a disappointed goodbye, however, Sirius added, "Are you coming? You look like you're in need of coffee. I'll pay."

So they went to the Leaky Caldron and Remus paid for his own coffee—when he came home, much later, he found money in the pocket of his coat, together with a note that said  _ told you, i'll pay _ , which made his insides squirm pleasantly and the rest of the evening, he walked around with a stupid grin on his face—and they talked. They just talked, while the Earth rotated towards the end of the day, people were born and people died. Fell in love and fell out of love, and met in impossible ways. He almost forgot to think about it—Sirius had that effect on him. He had known it, ever since that day on which he had met his eyes for the first time.

After the day on which they had exchanged names, the day that Remus kept thinking of as the day he had met Sirius Black, even though he couldn't even remember when it had become their silent thing to study at the same table in the library, summer finally truly ended and the sky turned grey, a cold kind of grey that made him feel more lonely than ever, even though he had a new friend for the first time in years—a friend that, more or less, happened to have eyes in the same colour as the sky during a thunder storm. Rain kept falling, it was dark already when he got home.

Every time Sirius texted, he felt warm inside—the idea that Sirius thought of him when they weren't in the library, when he was at home or during a lecture or when he was with friends. It didn’t take Marlene long to notice all of this. “Sirius Black?” she asked disbelieving when he gave in and told her what he had been up to lately while she cleaned the kitchen sink and he put away the groceries.

Remus nodded.

She frowned. “What’s he like?”

“Very nice. Do you know him?”

She gave a slight shrug. “Not really. I kind of talked to him once. He was weird and didn’t say much. How long have you known him?”

Now it was his turn to shrug. “A while.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re not nearly as hard to read as you think you are, Remus Lupin.”

He gave her a blank stare, which made her laugh even harder. “I’m not helping you clean this kitchen if you keep doing that,” he warned.

She attempted to imitate his expression, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

_ Time _ . It was such an absurd thing.

And, he came to realise, especially when he was with Sirius. Because Sirius could make five hours seem like ten minutes and the other way around, and despite and because of all his flaws, Remus started falling faster and harder, and he could only hope that he was not the only one. He couldn't be.

_ Meant to be. _

The words echoed in his head.

8.14 million people in London, 28,700 students in their university, 5200 students at the faculty of arts,  _ bound to get a useless art degree and become a teacher _ . Four storeys in the library, twenty tables in one storey. It couldn't be coincidence, whispered a voice in the back of his head. The feeling that it was something else, something stronger, filled him with hope and fear.

He told Sirius on a Friday evening in march, when both of them had closed their textbooks. Sirius just stared at him, with that inscrutable expression that was rare, but had become familiar in all the hours they had spent together. In the soft kitchen light, he made Remus think of coming home. He was wearing a white T-shirt and gym shorts—"They're from James, I think," he'd said with a lopsided grin as he'd emerged from the shower—and his hair was still damp. It reached just over his shoulders. He could be a picture from a magazine or pure art, but he was no longer just the untouchable person with the unfair beauty, only there to be admired from afar. The realisation brought a smile to Remus’ face.

"It's fate," Sirius said after a silence. He shook his head. Then he got up, sat down next to Remus, and leaned his head against his shoulder. Remus moved, so that his cheekbone didn't rest on the bone of his shoulder. "I like to think that I would have met you anyway, even if you hadn't been sitting there on that first day, or if I hadn't seen you then. Because you're always sitting in the same spot, you know? If not that day, then the day after, or the week after. Or the month."

"I hate to think that maybe, we wouldn't have met, ever?"

"Me too. You have no idea."

And then, Remus didn't even remember nor realise exactly, they got distracted, changed the subject for a while, leaving Remus with so many questions _. Do you remember why you were there? Do you remember the day? Because I don't. Because maybe, just maybe, you caused something—something not quite like an alarm clock that keeps ringing, but close enough.  _ It was later, though, when he got home the next morning when he thought about those questions again. For now, one of them or half together, they decided to bake pancakes. Or actually, Remus was baking the pancakes and Sirius was sitting on the kitchen counter, next to the window, still wearing the shorts that belonged to the illustrious James Potter Remus still hadn't met (and he tried not to think of  _ why _ , because clearly, James was of great importance to him). He also tried not to focus on Sirius' bare legs, so his eyes drifted towards the window. The curtains were open still, and the moon was visible in the night sky as a gigantic, illuminated ball. A shiver ran down his spine, like always when he saw it. There was something about it. Imminent, in the way it loomed. It demanded your attention if you did so much as look at the sky.

"Are you cold, Moony?" Sirius asked.

"No," Remus replied, smiling despite the ridiculous nickname.

"Liar liar pants on fire."

"On fire? If they were on fire, I wouldn't be cold at all," Remus remarked dryly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You would be screaming, that's all." He seemed to contemplate what he had just said, and then, slowly, a sly grin came onto his face. "Don't worry, you're so fucking hot."

Remus let out an exasperated sigh. "You're awful."

They ate their pancakes, called a friend of Sirius ("You're not ditching me again for that library bloke", "No, don't worry" and then he hang up on them) and they watched a horrible movie Remus didn't want to see, ever again – but Sirius enjoyed it, so he probably would. Sirius was leaning against him, something he was getting used to. The moments he wanted to live in. A small voice in the back of his head told him that this was like a date, a tenth one or something, where they were past uncomfortable dinners and awkward small talk. The same voice told him that he should say something, because else, Sirius would go some day—impulsive as he was, always chasing something, full of life and wanting to live, so different from Remus. It puzzled him, how Sirius could want to spend so much time with someone like him. It was so self-pitying. So  _ pathetic _ . He couldn't help it.

A week later, Sirius insisted that he came to a party and for the stupid reason called either  _ Idiot in love _ or  _ Idiot with no idea how to live a life _ , he agreed. Sirius was wearing a black shirt that seemed too formal and as a compensation, he wore the black jeans with so many holes that more than half of his legs were visible and Remus' breath hitched in his throat every time he looked at him.

There were so many people—large crowds still made his skin scrawl, his heart stop for a moment. It was dreadful, but it had been like that for as long as he could remember. As though Sirius sensed his misery, he squeezed Remus' hand, more gentle than Remus had ever seen him. He looked him in the eye and touched his cheek. A confident half smile. "It will be alright. Just don't let go."

With their fingers entwined—and Remus could barely believe his luck, the universe, whatever this was—they found their way through the crowd until Sirius spotted a lanky boy with glasses and hair that looked as though he had been running in a wind tunnel. Truly, that was all the guy seemed to be, until he threw his arms around Sirius and then around Remus, like he was a long lost friend. Remus could sense his energy, limitless and bright—sometimes, Sirius was dark humour, self loathing and so wrong it made Remus' insides ache, but other times, he was exactly like this boy called James.

"His best friend," he said proudly. "And I've heard a lot about you, but not nearly enough. He's probably afraid you'll like me so much that you'll abandon him."

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw, to his surprise, that Sirius didn't think it was that funny. Remus turned around to reassure him, ignoring the devious voice that whispered that this had nothing to do with Sirius' dark sides, but everything with the fact that Remus was, well,  _ Remus _ . Not someone you could boast about to your rich friends.

Sirius smiled a little. "Just don't let go." His voice was soft, near Remus' ear. When he looked at his face, he couldn't help but think that he looked extremely sad.

And in the end, he did let go. Remus. Or Sirius. Or both of them. They left each other, wandering on their own—or at least, it left Remus on his own, because he was clueless and didn't know how to live in the real world, how to be one with the person he saw when he looked in the mirror.

He kept replaying it, the party, the hopeful yet fearful looks Sirius kept sending him while they held each others' hands. "Wait until we get home, I need to tell you something," Sirius had shouted over the music and the loud voices of everyone else, everyone else, they seemed to know Sirius, he knew them and he smiled, brightly.

There was a girl who looked just like him, but more feminine, but stone cold. Sirius didn't introduce her. There was a beautiful girl with green eyes, who looked vaguely familiar. A man, a few years older than Remus, who knew how to live and how to talk to strangers, how to reach out to what he wanted, because he wasn't afraid to startle the universe, to shatter the ideas he had. The hopeful bridges of his fantasies that barely connected with reality.

They lost each other somewhere, and Remus didn't remember, it was only when James threw his arm around his shoulder that he realised that Sirius was nowhere to be seen – just like he had suddenly walked into Remus life one day, in the beginning of the academic year.

"It's ridiculous how much he talks about you and how much time he spends with you."

_Oh_. "Oh. Hey, James." _Too_ _nervous_ , _too_ _quiet_. James didn't notice though, he just started talking, a waterfall of words, almost drowning Remus.

"At first, I thought he was joking. He called me and he was like, I've met someone in the library. And I thought, what the hell are you doing in the library? He hates libraries, you know. They're silent and austere and remind him of home." James wrinkled his nose before going on. "Anyways, months passed and he was still all over you. I didn't understand, with all those people that keep trying to get his attention because he is hot and rich and a kind of crazy. And then I wondered if you weren't just like them and he got so upset, you have no idea!"

_ Oh _ .

"Congrats, Remus." He grinned widely. "Don't tell me you're not in love with him. I'll cut you in pieces and feed you to the sharks."

_ because he is hot and rich and a kind of crazy. _

That wasn't exactly why he liked Sirius so much. He was beautiful. Tall, lean, full lips, high cheekbones, silky black hair, pale skin, eyes like a storm, everything—and it was what had caught Remus' attention in the first place, but then, there were those slow, soft smiles, the faraway look he got in his eyes when he was reading. The few times he said something, a simple comment on a book or the weather, and then Remus had found it in himself to say something back. And then he had told him his name and it seemed too good to be true, to have a best friend for the first time, someone whom he could talk to about trivial matters and everything heavy without worrying.

"Well, are you?" James asked, his voice a little sharper now, his eyes more focussed.

He realised he hadn't answered out loud and he felt himself turning red. It was something they should teach you how to deal with, the feeling of failure as a result of social situations. He started to mumble an apology, trying the find the words to explain, when someone bumped into him from behind.  _ Sirius _ . He let out a relieved breath he didn't know he had been holding for too long.

He reached for Sirius' hand, but Sirius didn't see it— _or_ _ignored_ _it_ —and only his fingers brushed his skin.

"Prongs!" he shouted, and he grabbed James' wrist and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

There was no way he had not seen Remus.

It took him a while to realise. He just stood there, paralysed.

Seconds. Minutes. Everywhere on Earth people met and fell out of touch and he was just one of them, one of 7.53 billion. Time didn't stop, nothing slowed down. There were no stars falling from the sky, no grand explosions. Only a dull ache that stayed with him as he tried to find Sirius, who was nowhere to be seen, as he went home, went to bed, fell asleep and woke up in the morning to a text from an unknown number that said  _ i need to talk to you _ and he ignored it.

It was with him still in the afternoon, when he was trying to study (and failing) and the unknown number called him at the same time the doorbell rang.

_ Sirius _ .

"Hey."

He looked absolutely miserable. "Can we talk? If we can't, just let me explain?"

Remus stepped aside and let him in. Summoning all his willpower to sound understanding, he said, "Of course we can talk. I tried to call you."  _ Twice _ .  _ I would have called more, if I hadn't been afraid you didn't want me to call.  _ Sometimes, humans were so scary, changing their minds too quickly. One minute, they held hands and told each other to hold on and the next moment, they left you, wondering if you could still call them.

Sirius only frowned. "My phone drowned." Realisation downed upon him. "I didn't tell you." He laughed, a little hysterically, mostly relieved. "We've been together so much I didn't even think of telling you my phone died." He retrieved something out of the pocket of his leather jacket. "I nicked James' phone. Remember you wrote your phone number on my notes?"

"Oh," was all he could manage.

"Yeah," Sirius said. And then he started talking. "I heard you talk to James. Or I heard James talk to you. I wanted to tell him to shut up, but then he went on about how I never shut up about you and about how close we have become. I really like you. And at first, I couldn't believe you seemed to like me too, so when James suggested that you, well, didn't really like _me_ , I didn't take it very well." He smiled a little, an apology, an euphemism _. I didn't take it very well._ "But then, unless I have been misreading everything, it turned out you did like me, _really_ _me_." He met Remus' eyes properly, boring into his soul, if such a thing existed. "Although, maybe it was... just friendly? You seemed quite shocked when James asked if you were in love with me. I panicked. Awful defence mechanism. I know. I'm sorry. It's okay if you're not in love with me. I'd understand. Hell, I know how much you hate parties and I just persuaded you. I kept talking to all those people and then I left you alone even though I know you hate crowds. It was such a shitty thing to do, and the only excuse I have is that I panicked. I'm sorry."

Remus nodded, his thoughts racing. "Don't be. It's okay." He laughed, barely believing that he was really going to say all this out loud. "I thought... I don't know, I kind of forgot to reply to James, because it seemed too good to be true, like, just, everything—and then you were there, but you ignored me and just left. I thought that James had been lying, or testing me, because you just wanted to be friends and had seen through me—that I was in love and that the thing with James was a confirmation for you." He breathed out. Sirius was looking at him with wide eyes, lips parted. At least, he wasn't leaving or shouting, so Remus continued, "I don't even remember when it started, but I liked you already, before you told me your name. Back then, I didn't really know you, so maybe it was shallow. It didn't feel shallow though. Anyways, when we became friends, I... just, kept falling for you."

Sirius moved towards him. "Can I kiss you?"

"I've never kissed anyone before." It slipped without his permission.

Sirius didn't seem to care. He cradled Remus face and closed his eyes. Even up close, he was the most beautiful Remus had ever seen. His heart was beating so fast that he was afraid it would be fatal if it stayed like this, but then Sirius' lips touched his own and his eyes fluttered shut and his mind went blissfully blank for a few moments.

For some reason, Sirius was breathless when they parted. His eyes shined and there was a faint red on his high cheekbones. They manoeuvred to the couch and sat down.

Sirius carded a hand through his hair. "James kept telling me that what we had, that no way this was just friendly. I wanted to believe him, but... I don't have much friends besides James – or at least, not really—so I am a shit judge."

Remus couldn't help his disbelieving laugh. "Same. Same. You know I’ve known Marlene for years too. You're the first friend real new I've had in..."

Sirius touched his cheek, his jaw, his lips.

They went to the supermarket, because Remus didn't have any decent food—actually he did, Sirius just wanted pancakes—and they didn't let go of each other. Sirius insisted that he had to tell him about something that had happened years ago, when they were sitting down and not walking around while they both couldn't believe that this was real and there was so much to say that was less heavy. Bit by bit, they told each other about what they remembered from when they only saw each other in the library, completing the story together.

Remus told him what he had thought when he had heard Sirius' name for the first time and Sirius started laughing and leaned his head on his shoulder. Remus' body relaxed under his weight and warmth. Feeling safe, Remus spilled his thoughts on his own name, and Sirius shook his head and silenced him with a kiss.

It was almost midnight when they were lying on the couch and Sirius sat up, very sudden.

"I do remember though," he said.

His voice was earnest, which alarmed Remus a bit. He stat up, too, entwining their fingers, until his knuckles turned white and he was sure he was almost hurting Sirius, not wanting to let go.

Sirius smiled that smile, his favourite smile, and Remus felt strangely reassured again. "I do remember," Sirius repeated, "when I first saw you. When we met-met, for the first time. It was still summer. I saw you walking around on campus with a book, one about black holes. You looked at Lily, you know—she was at the party, too. Green eyes, red hair. And you smiled a little – I don't know, but it was brilliant—and I cursed the universe for all the cute boys who were straight—a stupid assumption, I know. The next day, I was in the library to pick up a book, but James and I were going to grab a coffee, but he wouldn't be there for another hour, so I just wandered around, and then I saw you, sitting alone." The look in his eyes was dreamy, distant. "I couldn't believe it. You were taking notes and there was just... something about you. I just had to—let you know I existed.

"A coincidence," Remus said softly. "Or meant to be.

"That's the smile," Sirius mumbled, while he brushed the fingers of his free hand over Remus' cheek, towards his hair. "We got along, instantly, even though on the surface, we look like completely different people. It was so strange how we had a lot in common, but not too much? It was perfect. Things like that, do they just happen?"

"I don't know," Remus said a bit breathless. "I've been wondering, too. Remember when I told you about how many people there are?"

"Of course. Remember when I said that I'd like to think we would have met anyway, because you're always sitting in the same spot? That's wishful thinking, because if I hadn't seen you there, I wouldn't have gone there again."

"James said you hated libraries."

"It's incredible," Sirius said. "I've always thought that it was almost impossible to meet anyone, and then I assumed that all my luck had been used up when I met James when I was eleven. There are so many shitty people. Or maybe they're perfect for others but just not for me." He laughed. "I couldn't believe it. And then you told me your name—"

"Like it was written in the stars," Remus added.

"Yeah. Part of the bigger plan, the great design, an alignment of the stars. And I'm still not sure what I did to deserve you."

"Maybe it just wanted to get back at me for being still alive. Making me fall hopelessly in love with someone who is so distracting that I'm going to fail all my classes."

Sirius laughed a little disbelievingly, looking at him with something he couldn't quite name. "You're such an idiot," he said, while fondly caressing Remus' knuckles. "You're not going to fail classes, not a single one."

They lay down again.

"Sirius?" Remus whispered after a while. "The universe doesn't make mistakes, does it?"

Sirius tilted his head to face him. "No. I don't think so. But even if it did..."

"We would find a way," Remus finished his sentence.

"We would find a way," Sirius repeated softly.

They moved to Remus' bed, where they could lie next to each other, close to each other, facing each other. Remus traced the sharp lines of Sirius' face. Sirius took Remus in his arms and pressed a kiss to his temple. And just before he fell asleep, he realised that he felt content and safe, and even if all the stars exploded tonight, they would still have each other.

  


**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this! 
> 
> i'd like to hear what you think of it! also, english isn't my first language, so pointing out major grammar mistakes is okay. like, the ones that you've seen more than three times.
> 
> and i think my english is leaving me or something - i should just go to bed, probably, so i'll stop talking now.
> 
> i'm [reytheghost on tumblr!](http://reytheghost.tumblr.com/)


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